


A Ship at Sea

by espritneo



Series: To grow is to change and yet remain the same [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 14:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9186368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espritneo/pseuds/espritneo
Summary: Yuuri, age seventeen - anxious, hard-working and pragmatic - on the cusp of college and his international career.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yuuri Katsuki is a bundle of contradictions. He's inherently shy and timid, but on skates and around other skaters, his attention is drawn inward and he has no idea how to handle a friendliness from a kouhai. He's self-aware, he manages his anxiety, and in my headcanon, his anxiety MANAGED HIM and shaped how he behaves right before and after a performance and this played a big role in his inability to relate to his rivals.
> 
> If you're reading this, what questions did you find yourself asking while you watched the show? I'd love to know other people's thoughts.

Yūri was seventeen when he won the Japanese nationals.

Up to this point, he had made a name for himself with his elegant form and emotive step sequences. The free skate was his strong suit and he always used his spins to highlight his unique stamina. His coach was a Sayo Hamada, affiliated with Kansai University Skating Club and he spent his high school years living away from home, managing school and training six days a week and saving his time off. Every two weeks, he could afford to make an 8-hour train ride to Hasetsu for a too-brief visit that, lately, only seems to remind him how far he’s slipped behind life in the quiet, seaside town.

The World Championships happened to fall during one of his trips and he spent an evening at Yu-topia with Minako-sensei, a bit nostalgic for the familiar ebb and flow of his childhood. On screen, Christopher Giacommetti was skating to Debussy and showcasing his quad salchow and rotational control.

“Yūri,” Minako-sensei was pouring another cup, face unusually serious given the two empty bottles. “What do you plan to do after high school?”

“Eh?” The teenager blinked owlishly. “I haven’t decided. Why?”

“I think you’re very good. Too good to stay at Kansai University. I’m sure they’ll give you a great financial offer, but if you want to get there,” she nodded at the television. “You’ll need to make plans.”

Yūri turned back towards the TV. Victor Nikiforov was stepping onto the ice. At twenty-one, he had several gold and silver medals under his belt and with every season, he was a becoming a serious contender for the GPF gold. This year, he was skating to Medtner. Yūri knew his program, utterly elegant and tragic, by heart.

Still, his pulse rabbited and his breath hitched every time Victor launched himself into a quad and floated through the air to lightly touch down in perfect form. Victor had two quads now - the salchow and toe loop - and he was working on a third.

That’s where Yūri wanted to be.

–

It took another two weeks to come to a decision and make peace with the negative impact it would have on his coach’s future.

“Ano, Hamada-sensei.”

 “Hai, Katsuki-kun. How can I help you?” His coach was sturdy and petite. At one point in her competitive career, she was a multiple gold-medal winner at nationals and the Four Continents. She had the upper body strength to maintain tight, beautiful spins.

“Sensei, I want to consider studying in the west.” Yūri paused to collect his thoughts. “I’ll graduate from high school in a less than a year and while, I know that Kansai University would welcome my enrollment, I question the wisdom of remaining here. We have had many successes and I am confident we will continue to do so. But I know it is in my best interest and Japan’s interest if I seek challenges at this stage in my life.”

He bowed low. “Please help me find an opportunity.”

Hamada-senses regarded him thoughtfully. “I will make some calls. But it will be difficult to convince the ones you really need. You will start learning the quad toe loop to boost your repertoire.”

Spring turned into summer and Yūri continued to work diligently. He went to cram school. His coach crafted a program around the theme of strength and they sent practice videos to a potential coach overseas. He was Italian and he had a history of taking on skaters from Eastern countries. At the moment, two of his students were about to retire.

One was Victor’s contemporary, a brash Czech skater fond of orchestral scores the likes of Prokofiev. He was a strong competitor that ended up on the podium 60% of the time and had a habit of posting post-performance cool down selfies with his rivals. He planned to go back home and skate professionally. Personally, Yūri would miss Victor’s cameos on his MySpace.

The other was an ice dance pair that recently completed their coaching certifications. They would be sticking around to add depth to the club’s coaching roster.

Celestino certainly seemed interested and his specialties were jumps. Plus, the club had the proper training equipment and athletic support.

Yūri had 4-5 months to apply to Michigan State and other public universities in the Detroit area. This season would be more intensive than most and his days were spent following a carefully planned schedule that accommodated his academic, athletic and financial goals.

Over summer break, he started attending cram school. He joined a group class in conversational English and diligently attended group activities. He needed at least a 550 on the TOEFL and he wanted to try the American SAT to boost his chances of being accepted. He had to ask the instructors for help writing his personal essay and painfully learned how to edit it to tailor to each school.  Minako was a godsend, in charge of finding Yuri an acceptable temporary ballet school. Yuuko was heavily pregnant and called often, blaming it on her hormones. Really, she just needed a friendly ear that wasn’t as terrified about the idea of triplets as Takashi.

He was only able to go home once. His parents were cheerful as always and made sure he left with more pocket money than his free time ever asked for. Between cash and the way they constantly ensured he had financial security, Yuri knew he was terribly blessed and tried to pay them back in his own quiet way. He was a good son, hard-working, and far too busy to know whether he had an alcohol tolerance. 

By late August, his season had begun with the Asian Open. Yuri had qualified for several B competitions and he was looking at one competition every three months, ending with the Japanese National Championships to defend his title.

On the ice, he would be the definition of strength and precision. He was skating to movie music: Tchaikovsky’s The Year 1812 in B-flat minor for his short program and The Man in the Iron Mask for his free skate. His costume was simple: black pants and a tasseled classic Renaissance shirt, the symbols of a dashing protagonist. He was meant to be the very image of brash youth, standing on the cusp of a new adventure with fearlessness as his ally. 

Off the ice, he was completely unremarkable and most vulnerable in the quiet hours leading up to his performance. Feeling familiar prickling in the back of his neck, Yuri blindly excused himself from Hamada-sensei and started a brisk walk. His anxiety loomed over his shoulder and he barely stayed in the lead.

 _Oh, kami, what was he thinking?_ He didn’t know anybody in America. He was going to lose all his equipment on the flight. The language barrier would lead to poor conditioning. He could injure himself without the proper support. He would have to re-learn ballet terminology to master his off-ice training. Classes were already a struggle in his native language; how many more hours would English-taught courses take away from practice? 

Terrified out of his mind, Yuri wandered restlessly until he found an empty room. He practiced the entry for his triple axel until his chest began to feel a different ache.

That evening, he gave a mediocre performance. But damn, were his axels perfect.


End file.
